


Ice Ice Baby

by vix_spes



Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: ALS Bucket Challenge, Crack, Gen, Humor, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 10:44:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2226159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ALS Ice Bucket Challenge sweeps through Whitechapel station and no-one is safe!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice Ice Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [slightlytookish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlytookish/gifts), [Pers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pers/gifts).



> This has already raised lots of money for a good cause and if you feel so inclined to donate the links are here:
> 
> ALS: [here](https://secure2.convio.net/alsa/site/Donation2?df_id=27420&27420.donation=form1)  
> MND: ICED55 £5 (or other amount) to 70070 (only available in the UK) or [here](https://www.justgiving.com/4w350m3/donation/direct/charity/311#MessageAndAmount)

Detective Inspector Joseph Chandler had seen a lot of strange things since he had started working in Whitechapel but, with just a couple of exceptions, all of said strange things had happened at crime scenes. They hadn’t been in the yard of the police station. Shaking his head in confusion, he made his way inside wondering, not for the first time, if he’d lost his mind. Making his way into his office he saw that he was the only member of the team in – he was apparently incredibly early, _again_ – so his answers were apparently going to have to wait. Even from his office he could still hear shouts and cheers from the yard along with the odd squeals and screams.

To his relief, his team was actually on time for once or only five minutes late in Mansell’s case, which meant that, for him, he was on time. Chandler waited for them to settle down a little, calling out their greetings to each other and turning on their computers before settling down with mugs of their preferred poison. Only then did he venture out of his office into the main incident room, clearing his throat as he did so.

“Morning team.”

“Don’t tell me we’ve got a case already? I met this bird in a bar last night and went back to her place. I got no sleep at all and my head’s bangin’.”

Chandler couldn’t help but frown at Mansell who looked even more of a disgrace than he did normally. In fact, unless Chandler was mistaken (and he wasn’t), Mansell was still wearing the shirt that he had been wearing yesterday, something that made Chandler shudder in disgust.

“No Mansell, no case yet; you’re all on paperwork unless something comes in. no, I just had a question for you all.” Here he paused as he pondered the best way to phrase his question. “Do any of you know why the night sergeant would stand in the middle of the yard and have a bucket of ice water thrown over his head while somebody filmed it? Anybody have a clue?”

He was simply greeted with a room of blank stares and rather exhausted faces. He wasn’t entirely surprised given that they had only just closed a murder case and they had all pretty much been living at the station.

“Okay then, paperwork everyone!”

It was almost lunchtime by the time that they were any wiser about the night sergeant’s actions. Despite the fact that he looked as though he was incapable of spelling his own name that day, it was actually Mansell who appeared with the pertinent information. He had disappeared a while ago, ostensibly to buy teas and coffees for everyone but, with the amount of time that he’d taken, Chandler was convinced that he had stopped at a local greasy spoon for what Chandler referred to as ‘a heart attack on a plate’. Still, he looked slightly less like a zombie and he brought back drinks that were better than the cafeteria sludge so Chandler couldn’t complain too much.

“Oi! Sir!”

Then again, maybe he could. Coming to work hungover (or still drunk) inevitably meant that Mansell regressed to Neanderthal behaviour, forgetting everything he had learnt about how Chandler liked his team and his incident room. Chandler would let it slide today. Mostly because he was curious and he couldn’t bring himself to care about the paperwork he should be doing to close yesterday’s case. Getting up and walking to the door, he accepted the green tea that he was offered gratefully.

“What is it Mansell?”

“I’ve found out why Smith was getting soaked in the yard this morning.”

“And?”

“He got nominated for the ALS ice bucket challenge. He either had to donate $100 or whatever it is in Sterling and do nothing, or donate $10 and get doused in a bucket of iced water.”

“What’s ALS?” came the question from Kent.

“Damned if I know. I found out what it was; I didn’t find out the details.”

“And that is where I can be of assistance,” came the slightly out of breath voice of Ed Buchan as he hurried through the doors of the incident room, a sheaf of papers under his arm as well as a portable whiteboard. The latter had been brought into service when Chandler had cringed a few too many times at other people writing on his whiteboard.

“I may have been beaten to the punch by DC Mansell in naming the event but I _can_ provide the details where he failed. ALS stands for amyotrophic lateral sclerosis in the United States and is often known as “Lou Gehrig’s disease” after a famous baseball player who went public with his diagnosis. In the UK, it is more commonly known as Motor Neurone Disease and is a progressive disease which attacks the motor neurones in the brain and the spinal cord. The Ice Bucket Challenge is where you are challenged to either donate a large sum of money to the charity in lieu of paying a smaller amount and throwing a bucket of ice water over your head. Once you have done so, you nominate three other people and they have to complete the challenge within twenty-four hours. You are also expected to provide video evidence as proof.”

“So, let’s get this straight. You only have to do it if you’ve been nominated?” When he received an affirmative answer, Chandler visibly relaxed. “Well that’s fine then; who’s going to nominate us?”

His words were immediately followed by a groan from Miles – “You’ve done it now; you shouldn’t have said that Joe” – and a cheer from Mansell – “Yes, I’ve been nominated by that fit blonde who works on the front desk. Where am I going to find a bucket from?”

Little did Chandler realise that madness was going to overtake his normally orderly department for the next few days.

  
(~*~)

  
Unsurprisingly, it took Mansell no time at all to find a bucket and some ice – apparently the corner shop down the road from the station was doing a roaring trade – so early afternoon that entire team trekked out to the yard where a number of people stood, all of them armed with smartphones, while Mansell was joined by a grinning Fitzgerald who was holding the bucket full of ice and freezing cold water. The only downside was that, despite the hangover, the presence of several attractive WPC’s that apparently Mansell _hadn’t_ tried to sleep with made him cocky.

Much to the horror of his team, and indeed 99% of the people in the vicinity, Mansell started to unbutton his shirt while singing ‘The Stripper’, all of which was accompanied by some lewd eyebrow waggling and some truly horrific attempts at dance moves. It was clear that his intentions were to flirt with the WPC’s but, in actuality, all he managed to do was convince Chandler that he was in fact still drunk and cause Riley to ask for a sick bag. Thankfully, in the interests of preserving the viewers sanity (and their eyeballs), Fitzgerald decided to pre-empt Mansell and simply emptied the bucket over his head, extinguishing his cockiness immediately as Mansell howled at the temperature.

“Oh fuck! Fitz, you bastard!! What did you do that for? Oh shite that’s cold. Jesus! Fucking hell, I think me balls are going to drop off. Christ, whose idea was this?”

Mansell was jumping around like a scalded cat as everyone laughed; Fitz was actually doubled over, wheezing for breath.

“Mansell, who do you nominate?”

“Fitzgerald, the wanker!” And then Mansell was back, irrepressible as ever. Sweeping his eyes around the crowd, he lingered on two of the prettiest desk sergeants and nominated them.

Nominations given and challenge completed, the crowd started to disperse as Mansell sauntered over to join the team, his shirt hanging half open and soaking wet, to the sound of catcalls and jeers from the rest of the team and disapproval from Chandler.

“Just, make yourself presentable Mansell. And stop harassing the female staff.”

  
~*~

  
It didn’t take long for the other members of the team to be nominated. Both Miles and Riley completed their challenge at home with their significant other’s holding the camera and ecstatic children dousing them with water. There was one loud scream and quite a few “Oh gods” from Riley but otherwise, to Mansell’s shame, she took it better than he did. Miles took his soaking without a word but an eagle-eyed Chandler saw the barely there flinch and the bitten off curse. Riley posted both videos on her Facebook page as proof and both took great delight in nominating Mansell. Again. As their second nomination, Riley selected Kent while Miles selected Ed, the researcher having annoyed the DS with his constant stating of facts over the last twenty-four hours. Not least because his spouting of facts had resulted in Chandler getting slightly paranoid and worrying about the dangers of the challenge; even going to the extent of writing the dangers of hypothermia on one side of the whiteboard. Both of them had decided to push the boat out with their third nomination, even if it did get them into trouble.

They both nominated Chandler.

They both knew that getting Chandler to complete the challenge was going to be nigh on impossible so they decided to focus on an easier target for the time being; Kent. The youngest member of the team had managed to hold out for thirty-six hours after being nominated and was doing his very best to wriggle out of having to do it at all; not that his team had any intentions of letting him get away with that. He had point blank just refused to just stand in the yard as the majority of the others had which had forced them to be a little bit more creative.

As knock off time approached, Riley distracted Kent so that Mansell could steal the helmet for his scooter. As Riley pretended to help Kent, even going so far as to take him on a wild goose chase around the station in an attempt to “search” for his helmet, Mansell was filling said helmet with a mixture of cold water and ice cubes. Just as Kent had given up and was seriously considering taking a risk of riding home without his helmet, even going to the extent of sitting astride his scooter, Mansell appeared and Riley dug out her phone.

“Kent, I’ve found it. This is it right?” Mansell held the helmet carefully, ensuring that none of the water inside could be seen or that any of it spilled out. As he drew closer to the younger DC, he had to ensure that Kent didn’t get up and discover the plan. “No, no, don’t get up. Here, let me help.”

He emptied the helmet of water over Kent’s head, the ice cubes clinking against the scooter as Kent let out a remarkably girlish scream and fell off his scooter in an attempt to get away from the water. Much to the amusement of both Riley and Mansell.

“Awww, look at him Mansell. He looks like a drowned puppy; doesn’t it make you feel a bit guilty?”

“Nope, ‘cos I know that the little shit is going to nominate me.”

Mansell wasn’t wrong. Kent also made the daring move of nominating his idol, DI Chandler, egged on by his teammates.

  
~*~

  
Chandler managed to last three days, by which point there was a small corner of Ed’s whiteboard dedicated to the number of people who had nominated the Detective Inspector to take the challenge. In an attempt to avoid getting a dousing, and wanting to help a good cause, Chandler had made it known that he had made a sizeable donation to the Motor Neurone Disease Association. It had made no difference whatsoever; there were a lot of people in Whitechapel Police Station who wanted to see DI Chandler get doused in a bucket of iced water. He had been nominated by every single member of his team and, seeing as every single member of his team had already completed the challenge (even Ed, although he hadn’t actually been given the option), he didn’t really have a choice. And that wasn’t even counting the nominations of people elsewhere in the station. So, with as much dignity as he could summon, he informed his team that he would complete the challenge at lunch.

Of course, that meant that his team immediately started scheming behind his back. Or, at least three members did; Mansell and Riley being positively eager about it while Kent was slightly more reluctant to do this to his idol.

“Is this really fair? I mean, four buckets? Do they all have to be freezing and full of ice? Could we not make one of them warm water?”

“Kent, stop being such a pussy. It’s Chandler; I would have thought that you’d have jumped at the chance to see your crush all shirtless and dripping wet? Take advantage … and it’s for charity. It doesn’t get much better than that! And yes, four buckets; four of us nominated him.”

Kent blushed furiously at the acknowledgement of his ~~giant~~ slight crush on his boss but made no further complaints about the water temperature. In fact, he may have been slightly distracted after Chandler’s potential state of undress had been pointed out.

“Besides, I’ve had to do this six times now. I might as well get something out of it.”

“You’re just bitter that all the women you’ve been panting after couldn’t give a damn about seeing you with your shirt off but they’re all desperate to see the boss shirtless.” Meg Riley chortled as she elbowed Mansell in the ribs.

“I don’t get it. What’s so bloody special about the boss? Just for that, I’m going to put extra ice in the buckets.”

  
(~*~)

  
Chandler couldn’t help but be more than a little daunted when, as he walked out into the yard, there was already a sizable group of people waiting around. He really hoped that they weren’t all there to watch him but he had a sinking feeling that they were. He tried to dig his heels in and halt the inevitable but a firm hand in the centre of his back stopped him in his tracks and he knew that it was Miles. He also couldn’t help but curse his pale skin as he became aware of the appreciative looks that he was getting from some of the women.

“Remind me again why I had to do this shirtless? And wearing my suit trousers from yesterday? I feel grubby; I wore these at a crime scene.”

“Do you really want to get your suit soaking wet and potentially ruined? I thought it was one of your favourites? Your options are either doing this shirtless wearing those trousers or in Mansell’s dirty gym kit and I’m fairly certain that you don’t want to go there ever.”

Chandler blanched at the thought of it and, if he was being honest, Miles didn’t blame him; he wouldn’t want to wear Mansell’s dirty kit either. Still, he pushed a little bit harder as Chandler started trying to resist even more.

Despite Chandler having nearly a foot of height on Miles, the older man was no pushover and easily pushed Chandler to the middle of the crowd where Kent, Riley and Mansell waited with four buckets of water. Miles propelled Chandler towards them, turning him so that his back was to his team, and then went to join them, picking up his own bucket of water.

“Right, on the count of three. One – two …”

Only they never got to three because Mansell cheated, emptying his bucket on two. He clearly was hoping that his actions would get him an outrageous reaction but he was disappointed. There was none of the extensive swearing that Mansell reacted with, no screams like Riley and Kent but then neither was he impassive like Miles. There was a loud gasp and a shudder but that was it.

“Come on sir! Who are your nominations?”

“I’m not nominating anybody.”

The crowd depleted rather rapidly at those words although, disconcertingly, there were more than a few women lingering and taking either photos or videos on their smartphones as they giggled causing Chandler to blush hotly again. Turning around to face his team, squinting slightly through the water still dripping in his eyes and gratefully accepting the towel from Miles, Chandler couldn’t help but be concerned at the sight of Kent. The DC was blushing bright red and looked as though he might combust at any second.

“Kent? Kent, are you okay?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you would prefer to comment on LJ, you can do so [here](http://vix-spes.livejournal.com/168020.html)


End file.
